Of Monsters and Men
by KingRabbit
Summary: After coming down with a spontaneous, and rather extreme, cold, Allen is forced to spend the day in bed. However, when he opens his eyes, it's not the apartment he shares with his dark haired lover that he sees, but a snow-clad bamboo forest. He wanders for hours, wondering if it was a dream brought on by being sick or not. But the person he finds, is Kanda? YullenArekan YW 2012
1. Winter Mornings

**Hi everyone! Happy Yullen Week! I must be crazy for doing this, this year. I'm doing all fourteen themes, but I'm only on the third chapter as I'm writing this. Hopefully I can keep them all on time, but bear with me if I can't. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. It will be all one continuous story.**

**Rating: Probably T, but I'm making it M just in case. Because even I'm not sure what every line will say.  
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**Beta'd by: My Moyashi, the ever awesome and incredible, Starisia the Shadow Demon.  
**

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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 1: Winter Mornings

Theme: Off the Maps

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_Warm…_

Allen let out a slow, contented sigh, still more than half asleep and holding on to the blurred remnants of his dream, the surreal images dancing with the tips of his fingers, keeping out of reach, breathing "com hither" into his ears but slowly getting farther and farther away. He curled himself into a loose fetal position, a partial smile on his lips at the responding movements from the body next to him, adjusting to fit more comfortably against his back. A heavy breath drifted across his shoulder, followed by a quiet, sleepy sound. It pulled him even more away from his precious sleep and he stretched, feeling cloth against his bare legs and warm puffs of air against his neck.

_Warm…_

Shifting, he pressed his face into the sheets, his eye against the creases of the misplaced pillow. The formerly limp arm draped over his waist shifted, crawling its way up to his chest and holding him tight against a bare chest. He made a noise, refusing to open his eyes, even with the feel of thin lips pressed tiredly to his shoulder.

"Time is it…?" Came the sleep-thick drawl against his skin, the voice like gravel as its owner slowly pulled himself into the land of the living. He made a distant sound, not answering him as he clutched desperately onto the scattered and quickly fading remains of oblivion. "Moyashi… hmmn… time…"

"Time to check it yourself…" He growled, pressing his face harder into the sheets, hurting his nose and making it hard to breath. There was a low, indistinct murmur behind him before the bed dipped as his partner shifted, leaning over him, the thick braid draping partially over him. Another murmur before he settled back against him once more. He could feel the warm chest rise and fall against his back as the breathing against his skin evened out. It must still be early just yet.

Allen turned his head back, relieving the pressure against his sore nose as he settled back against his partner in a more comfortable position. He let himself begin to drift, losing himself to an in-between state of not-asleep-sleep. He was still too warm, the temperature rising until he began to sweat. Opening his eyes, he found that the sun had begun to peek through the gaps in the blinds, falling across the blankets in patches. He sat up, looking around the room and finding it hard to focus on anything beyond two feet. Allen grimaced, his face contorting in pain as a pounding headache split through his skull, quickly making itself known. He groaned, world spinning long after he found himself back down on the pillow. He draped an arm across his eyes, trying to put pressure on his head and hopefully keep it from breaking into pieces and keep out the light, as little as there was.

He opened his eyes once more at the sound of bare feet stepping across a wooden floor, looking up at the blurry form of his lover. His vision slowly cleared a bit as the other man leaned close, saying something that seemed too loud in his ears despite him not being able to understand a single word. He groaned in response, not daring to speak with the way he stomach churned, aching like he was repeatedly being kicked from the inside. He closed his eyes as Kanda pressed a cool hand to his forehead, partially covering his eyes at the same time. His hand was probably warm, but right now, compared to how hot he felt, it was like draping ice across his skin. It was heaven. The hand seemed to force the headache back until it was nothing but a dull throb in the back of his skull. As the pressure began to lift, Allen planted his own hand across Kanda's, making him leave it there so he could keep all the cold to himself. It was only when his skin began to warm, losing the chill, that he let him go, dropping his arm to the side of his head. He opened his eyes, staring at his boyfriend with unfocused eyes, his face, which had relaxed when the headache had begun to fade, contorted again as it returned full-force with a vengeance.

"Kanda, I don't feel good," he croaked, giving a pitiful attempt at a grin. His lover leaned down, pressing his forehead against his own.

"I realize that, stupid," Kanda said back, his voice lowered, taking mercy on his sensitive ears. He turned his head away, trying to get him to lean away, not wanting him to get sick. Even if Kanda never caught even a spring cough, he didn't want to risk it. But his lover didn't budge, going as far as kissing him before sitting back far enough to see his face. Allen watched him, calling him an idiot before closing his eyes as the headache worsened.

Kanda sighed, saying something that he didn't quite catch. The bed moved as Kanda stood, walking away. Allen could hear the sound of plastic and whatever liquid was pouring from it into a glass. He opened his eyes, looking through the door and down the hall to their small kitchen as his lover rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out a bottle of Buckley's. Allen groaned, turning over and hiding his face in the bed. What god did he piss off to deserve this?

Footsteps heralded Kanda's return and Allen grumbled his displeasure, knowing that the bottle was in his hand. "Come on, dumbass. It's your fault for getting sick. Now take it."

"Never!" He yelled into the mattress, his cracked voice muffled. He dragged the blankets over his head in a poor attempt at hiding from his lover. The man ripped them off him seconds later.

"Don't be a brat, Moyashi. You will drink it, even if I have to shove the bottle down your throat." Kanda snapped, standing on the bed. Allen turned over, glaring up at his lover as the older man planted a foot on either side of him and dropped down, keeping him in place. He grabbed the pillow, covering his face with it and using it as a shield against Kanda. The other man seemed to lean away from him with the way his weight was shifting, lessening on one side. He could hear the sound of a cap unscrewing and the clinking of a spoon on the nightstand. He gulped, his grip on the pillow tightening.

"Open up, Moyashi," Kanda said, a wicked note in his voice. Allen knew he was enjoying this when there should be no pleasure of any kind that came from giving someone cough syrup.

"Make me," Allen croaked back. He regretted the words almost instantly, knowing his lover would take it as an invitation. His grip tightened again as Kanda began to tug the pillow away. With his strength stolen by whatever cold he had, Allen hardly managed to put up a fight. The pillow was gone within minutes. He clamped his mouth shut, turning his head away when he saw the spoon.

"Moyashi," Kanda growled, his voice holding a warning. He shook his head, glaring at him from the corner of his eye. He watched as the spoon got closer to his mouth, reacting automatically to push it away.

He could feel the cold liquid dripping down his arm, under his pajama sleeve. Allen paused in his struggles, looking up at his hand and the dark cough syrup that was once contained in the spoon he had hit. Swallowing despite how sore his throat was, he looked up at the deceptively blank face of his lover. Kanda just stared at him for a while before leaning over to the nightstand again and dropping the spoon on it.

Allen used this chance to escape, clambering out from under his lover and off the other side of the bed. His feet met the cold floor, his toes tingling as the blood rushed back to them. He rushed around the bed, trying not to crash to the floor with the way the room was spinning and his head was pounding. He made a dash for the door, only to be caught before he could leave the room. Kanda wrapped his arms around his waist, hauling him back to the bed kicking and croaking. After planting him down, his lover pressed his lips to his, making him pause in his escape attempts. Long eyelashes brushed his as Kanda deepened the kiss. Allen lost himself in the feeling, torn between wanting it to continue and to prevent his boyfriend from sharing his bedridden fate. But Kanda seemed adamant about continuing it with the way he pressed his tongue between Allen's lips.

Allen closed his eyes, melting into the kiss as he sought out Kanda's taste. But that was funny, he tasted like-

The liquid was bitter and gross, biting his tongue as it flowed into his mouth from his lover's. His body reacted, swallowing the liquid before his mind could tell it to spit it out. He coughed, choking and shoving Kanda away, glaring at him as he wiped his chin from the drops that hadn't made it through the exchange.

"A-asshole!" He choked out, flopping backwards on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.

"Every single time, Moyashi! Will you ever _not_ fall for that?"

"Go to work, asshat!"

"You want me out that bad, Moyashi? How cold." Kanda feigned being hurt, going as far as placing a hand on his bare chest. Allen grabbed the pillow throwing it blindly in his general direction.

"Jerk."

He heard him chuckle from the hallway moments before the shower began running. Allen heaved a sigh, sitting up and crawling to the head of the bed before getting under the covers. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply, noticing how his lungs were beginning to ache. It was probably from choking. He groaned, placing Kanda's pillow over his pounding head. It smelt like him. And a bit like Buckley's. It must have been either from his sleeve, where the cough syrup had been spilt, or some of it had gotten onto the pillow. The escape attempt had left him hurting worse off than before, which dredged up the question of why he was sick in the first place. He hadn't shown signs of being anything but a healthy twenty-three year old man with an idiot for a boyfriend the day before, nor the one before that. It was rare for him to get sick, and even then, not this badly.

He sighed, the simple act of thinking making his head feel that much worse. He halted his thoughts, listening to the muted sound of the shower and the splatter of water hitting the plastic floor every time Kanda wrung out his hair. Slowly, he began drifting off, still too hot but too weak to stay awake.

Cold slowly replaced the warmth, the switch like falling into a lake in the middle of summer in slow motion. The cold was more than a relief, it was mercy upon his aching body. It pushed away the pain, at first. But before long, it began to numb his limbs and bite his skin. His pajama's felt wet, soaking almost, and icy cold.

Allen cracked his eyes open, closing them again almost instantly against the sting of being blinded. "Kanda, close the blinds!" He cried, rolling onto his stomach. The shock from _just how freezing_ it was snapped him awake. He opened his eyes all the way, rolling to his back and sitting up in a matter of seconds. He expected the world to spin, and for nausea to drag him back down to a fetal position, but there was nothing, not even the remnants of the headache that had been plaguing his head all morning like a jackhammer.

There was nothing.

But he had also been expecting to see dark blue walls and a white, feather-filled duvet over green sheets. What he got instead was what looked like bamboo shoots and trees, dark gray clouds, and-

"Is this… snow?"

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**Well, there's chapter one. I hope you enjoyed it and will stick with it. Everything will be explained by the time this is over. **

**Ciao for now!  
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**If you liked it, please review and let me know!  
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**-Jellybean Fish (Auttie)  
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	2. All the Same

**Hey there, everyone. Welcome back for chapter two. This chapter will give you a more pronounced idea of what's going on. Hopefully you'll all understand. Enjoy and see you at the bottom.**

**And thank you for everyone who had reviewed on the last chapter. It really means a lot to me to read your reviews. They made me smile and laugh. Thanks!  
**

**Enjoy.  
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**Beta'd by: The illustrious Moyashi - Starisia the Shadow Demon  
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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 2: Always the Same

Theme: Masks and Walls

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Kanda Yuu rolled his head, cracking his neck once before doing the same with his shoulders. His whole body felt sore from paying back the favor he owed one of the villagers. But it was worth it, as he now had the stones the man's wife had found while she was gathering wood for her family.

He was lucky to have found them before anyone else had heard that they had been found, especially _them._ Damn foreigners. Kanda disapproved of the trade between his homeland and the _Americans_. It would only welcome calamity to their country. But it wasn't as if he had a say in the ongoings of Japan.

'_Tsk. Even that name burns on my mind's tongue.'_

Casting the thoughts from his head, Kanda sighed and pulled the stones from the small pouch he had tied to his wrist. They were different kinds, different color. Kanda knew they were not from his homeland. But he didn't know _where_ they were from either. One was what the Chinese had called "_Jadeite," _which was supposed to have come from the continents west from them on the American map that was on display in the town he had just come from. He also had a copy of it at home, though it was not accurate in comparison. The Jadeite stone was smooth and perfectly round. He lifted it up to eye level, gazing at it in the pale light that filtered through the snow-filled clouds. It was a dark yellow color with white veins spider-webbed across it.

The next was a cube. It had a translucency to it, the base color a pale green that looked akin to Jade. In the center, almost like a snake's eye, was a sliver dark blue. He had one like it at home, one that was a pale lavender color with white faded into it. It too was in a square and Kanda figured that it was how the crystal formed. He didn't know the name of it, though he wasn't about to ask the traders about it. The last time he had done so, the man had tried to take it from him, going as far as offering money. But the money they got from trade was almost completely worthless in his homeland if you traveled beyond the port towns.

The third and final stone was one he recognized easily, having gotten one off a Chinese trader in the past. It was a bright scarlet color that shone luminescent against the snow. Cinnabar was one of its many names. It wasn't rare, but it was something not readily at his disposal.

He put the stones back into the pouch and pushed it back in his sleeve. His steps crunched on the hardening snow, despite it having fallen just that morning. The path was covered in frozen footsteps from the carts and horses that had gone through with goods to trade with the foreigners that would be arriving that next day. His robes kept the bite of the cold away as he left the main path up a trail covered with an undisturbed blanket of snow. The air around him was silent, the call of a snowbird was all that could be heard in the distance, along with the wind knocking branches together.

He wanted to know why, and how, the stones had gotten there, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. All three had let off a strange aura that made the skin where they touched tingle pleasantly. The shape they were found in was always like the ones he had in the pouch – perfect geometrical shapes.

He sighed, losing himself in his thoughts for a long while before surfacing. He slowed his pace, an odd feeling stirring in his gut. The hair on the nape of his neck rose, pricking his attention. Kanda stopped walking, his hand readying the long katana at his side as he looked around. The land was still, save for the elements. There seemed to be no animals, no surprise this close to the town. Looking behind him, he found the area void of any soul. After standing around for a while with no movement but the trees, he decided to keep moving, not wanting to catch a cold being out in the snow for extended periods when it wasn't necessary.

Continuing along the trail, Kanda kept his senses about him, looking for prints in the snow and sounds or sights in the distance and between the trees. His dark eyes scanned the landscapes, trying to spot anything that didn't seem to fit. So far, there was nothing amiss. But even so, the feeling only worsened, warning him of something the longer he dwelled on it.

And then suddenly, there was something. As the snow hardened in the cold, he could hear steps breaking the icy top layer. It was a low sound, barely audible over the sound of his own steps. Looking around once more, he noticed a figure in the far distance. It was hard to make out at first, the person almost blending in with their surroundings.

Any other place and he would have ignored the person, but this trail led to his house, the only one within miles of the area. So what was this person doing out here? They didn't appear to be sneaking around, no darting between trees to keep concealed, no carefully placed steps. But the person didn't seem to be lumbering around in any sort of manner either. So it was likely that they were lost. But what were they doing off the main road and so far from the town in the first place?

Kanda moved in the direction of the stranger, careful to not be seen until he could get a complete view of him.

The person, a male, seemed young, but his hair was the color of the undisturbed snow beneath him, his skin like the pale insides of an almond. He was wearing clothing like the soldiers and traders, only it didn't seem like a uniform. He wasn't wearing shoes, his bare feet red with the beginnings of frostbite.

What was he doing out here dressed like that?

The man wandered toward the left and Kanda took the opportunity to move from his spot, wanting to stay behind him the whole time. The air was filled with a long suffering sigh as the man stopped and threw his arms in the air.

"Where the hell am I?!" He yelled, frustration clear in his voice.

The words were lost on Kanda, the man speaking gibberish in his ears. It sounded like the language the Americans spoke, but he couldn't be absolutely sure. What was a foreigner doing here?

Looking around, the man raised one foot out of the snow, shaking the white off it in what Kanda guessed was an attempt to keep them warm. He didn't see the point, as he would just have to put it back in the snow. The man then looked down; seconds later he whipped around, head turning frantically, almost fearfully as he searched the trees, his gaze passing over where he stood multiple times. Kanda looked at his feet. Footprints, his to be specific, were etched into the snow, obviously fresh.

"Hello? Anybody there?" The man called in his gibberish again, rubbing his arms as he looked back down at the footprints.

Frowning, and knowing the man would freeze to death in the snow otherwise, Kanda stepped out from where he was hiding, clearing his throat to announce his presence, the sound loud in the quiet forest.

The man looked up at him, the relief that splintered across his face disappearing almost instantly. The man's eyes – a silvery blue color – widened as he stared at Kanda, his jaw slack. He seemed confused, surprised, and a bit astonished at the sight of him, as if he couldn't understand what he was doing there.

"K-Kanda?" The man asked.

Kanda's thoughts came to a halt. "How do you know my name?" He asked, hand slowly making its way to his sword.

The man's face lit up in surprise and even more confusion. "Kanda, it's me, Allen. You know me. You forced cough syrup down my throat this morning."

This time, Kanda understood, his own language falling of the stranger's tongue like it was natural. "I have no clue who you are. Nor have I ever met you before."

Hurt crossed the person's – Allen? – face. "Kanda, this isn't very funny. I'm freezing, so I'd like very much to know where we are and how you got me here. My feet are about to fall off, so I wish you would end this joke."

"What are you even talking about? I'm telling you as it is. I have never interacted with you in the past." Kanda said, his voice strained with impatience. "You have me mistaken wi-

"Your name is Kanda Yuu, you're twenty-five years old, Japanese. You have a black dog with white socks that you've had since you were eight. You always say you don't like cats, but that's not true. You were adopted because your parents died in a fire. Tell me how I have the wrong person."

Kanda stared at him, shocked, dumbstruck, and – most of all – disturbed. How did this person know that? Not just that, he never told anyone about his parents, having moved to this area ten years prior with his late teacher. No one around here should know that, especially some foreigner who he's never even laid eyes on before.

Slowly drawing his blade, Kanda glared at the man. "I don't know who you are, or how you know so much about me, but you're going to tell me what else there is. What else do you know about me?!"

The stranger stumbled back a few steps, alarm and rage sparking in his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing?! Don't draw your popsicle stick on me!"

"My what?" Kanda growled through clenched teeth.

"You heard me."

"I'm going to skin you alive!"

"As if I never heard that one before!"

"You little bastard…"

"Please, the death threats are really old."

Kanda twitched, forcibly holding himself back from making strips of ribbon out of the man. He took a deep breath, not wanting to be responsible for the death of an unarmed man. "Will you stop talking as if we know each other."

The man, Allen, just stared at him, a funny look visible in his eyes. "You really don't know who I am?"

Kanda shook his head. "I'm not acquainted with any foreigners beyond business."

Allen's strength seemed to leave him in a rush and he lurched forward, unsteady. Kanda stepped toward him, catching him and holding him to his chest before slowly lowering them to the snow. The man was breathing heavy, deliberate breaths, as if something was piecing itself together in his mind. He inspected Kanda, mainly his clothes and the older man knew his thoughts were straightening out in his head.

He looked up at Kanda, his face serious. "What year is it? As in the American calendar."

'_So he is an American…'_

But if there was one thing Kanda did know, it was about the American system.

"Eighteen sixty-seven. Why?"

The man gripped Kanda's robes, his face disbelieving. But then he looked at his clothes again.

"If I know anything about you, it's that you don't lie…"

"I have no reason to."

Allen's face paled and he swallowed thickly. "So it really is eighteen sixty-seven…" The man trailed off, muttering to himself in his language, though Kanda understood – to a point – what he was saying. He could guess that he was trying to figure something out. But what did the date have to do with anything? It was just a number.

"Is something wrong with the date?" He asked, impatient to know what was wrong with this man.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you… Can we just… skip that part?" Allen said.

Kanda frowned at him. "What?" Again with the gibberish.

"Ah. Sorry." Allen said, once more speaking so Kanda could understand. He repeated his words, and the way he spoke had Kanda nodding before he could argue the point.

"Fine. Then tell me why you're out here dressed so inadequately." He said, changing the subject.

Allen gave him a sheepish look. "You wouldn't believe that either. Though, if you don't mind, can you tell me where this is?"

Kanda stayed silent for a while, thinking how it was unfair that he was the only one supplying answers. He shifted, hands falling from the man's shoulders to his elbows as he told him his thought.

"I know… And I apologize. But it's hard to explain."

"That's a cheap answer."

Allen chuckled, "I know. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sor-"

Kanda gave him a pointed look, cutting him off. Allen turned sheepish once more.

"I refuse to answer any more of your questions until you do the same for me."

Allen pressed his lips – slightly blue, Kanda noted – together in a tight line as he thought. Finally, he nodded. "I guess it doesn't matter if you think I'm crazy. But, before that, can you tell me where I am?"

"Japan. That's what you would know it as." Kanda replied, the word stinging his tongue.

Allen's eyes seemed to bug out from their sockets. "J-Japan?! Not New York?"

"No. Of course not. Did you hit your head or something?"

"I'm starting to think so."

"So I'm listening to the words of a deranged trader?!"

"I'm not deranged, BaKanda!"

Kanda froze, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a sentence. Irritation pooled hotly in his stomach and he glared daggers at the man. "Bastard."

"Sorry. It's habit, really."

"Habit? You want to pass this off as a habit?"

"It is. Scouts honour."

"Whose?"

"Never mind."

Kanda growled before standing and sheathing his katana. "In any case, answer my question." He reached out a hand, offering to help the other man up. He took hold of it and tried to drag himself to his feet, which seemed to have decided they weren't going to hold his weight any longer.

"Ah. I can't get up."

"Thank you, genius, if you hadn't said it I would never have been able to figure it out."

"Yeah, you can save the sarcasm until after I can walk again."

"Tch."

"Don't blow air at me."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Are you offering your help?"

"Would I say what I have otherwise?"

"Yes."

Kanda shook his head and pulled Allen hard, trying to get him to his feet. The result wasn't quite what he was going for and he ended up dragging him until he was stretched on his side with his top riding up.

"Your legs aren't working."

"Really? Well, shit, I didn't notice. Thanks for clearing that up for me."

"I will leave you to die in the snow."

Allen didn't respond, and Kanda knew that he knew he wasn't bluffing. Sighing hard, he kneeled beside him and slipped an arm under his knees, the other around his back. Standing, he was surprised at how heavy he was. He told him as much as he shifted to adjust to his weight.

"Hey, muscle isn't exactly feather-light, you know." Allen retorted, putting his arm around Kanda's neck, under his long ponytail.

"You have muscle? I would have never guessed." Kanda sneered in return as he trudged back to the trail and then toward his home. He tried to ignore how cold the other was, how he couldn't feel any warmth through his clothes. _'How long was he out here?'_

"I could have you sprawled on the ground easily!" Allen snapped, puffing his cheeks. It reminded Kanda of a blowfish.

"You could try. You wouldn't get very far." Kanda said, a smirk pulling at his lips without permission. He turned serious a moment later. "Now, answer my question. Where are you from? And how did you get here?"

"That's more than one question. Well, there's no easy way to say this… I don't know how I got here. One moment I was sleeping in our- I mean, my, bed in my apartment back in New York. Next, I'm waking up in in this forest." Allen explained.

Kanda frowned, parts of his mind going to the stones, while the rest was a bit sceptical. But there was still something else. "Fine, say I believe you. But why did the date shock you?"

"That's the part that's hard to explain. I don't even know what's going on. I can hardly believe it myself. But you said the year was eighteen sixty-seven. I'm from the year two-thousand and twelve – I'm from the future."

Kanda stopped walking, his arms going slack at the stupidity of the idea. As a result, he dropped Allen into the snow. The male landed heavily, a yelp rolling from his bluish lips. He groaned, face scrunched in pain. "That should have hurt more than it did… Ah… What the hell, bastard?!"

Kanda shook his head scattering thoughts that tried to create ways for his words to be true. He stared down at Allen, annoyance clear in his eyes. "I have not lied to you once, I would have hoped you'd pay me the courtesy of doing the same."

"I didn't lie to you! It's the truth! As far as I know, anyway. It's not like I'm an expert at this!" Allen snapped back, sitting up on his elbows. He glared back at Kanda with equal intensity.

They both stayed like that for a few minutes before Kanda remembered that Allen was going to freeze. "Don't ever lie to me," he said, "or I'll leave you out in the cold to freeze for good. You can find someone else."

"It's not like I'm trying to deceive you or anything," Allen said as Kanda lifted him back up. "I don't know what's going on. I was just saying what I know. I don't even know if that's for certain."

Kanda clucked his tongue, believing the part about not knowing what was going on. As for the rest… well, he would leave that for another day to decide. "In any case, just don't fall asleep."

"You think I don't know that. I've been telling myself that for the last two hours." Allen replied.

"Two hours? You've been out here that long?"

"Not only that, but I was going in circles."

"You're hopeless."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"Nothing." Allen said quickly, patting Kanda's chest twice, like he was trying to ease the words. He knew it was meant to be insulting.

"So, do you believe me now that I say I'm not who you think I am?" Kanda asked after a long moment of silence.

Allen jolted, as if he was beginning to be lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of the crunching snow. "Uh, huh? Oh. Yeah. I highly doubt Kanda I know is older than twenty-five. Not when he has the personality of a five-year-old. But he's not so bad, I guess."

He had a fondness in his voice that made Kanda think of the girls in town, talking about the young men. But it was more than that.

"Are you in love with him?" The question slipped from between his lips and Kanda had no chance of stopping it.

A dark red crawled up Allen's face, not ending until it reached his hair, showing a stark difference between them and making the red seem that much darker. "Yes… W-we live together…"

Kanda was surprised, among other things. But it wasn't any of his business. "I see."

They fell into an awkward silence, broken only by his steps.

"He looks like you," said Allen. He was looking off into the distance, his gaze lost among memories. "Exactly like you. He keeps his hair long and in the same style as well."

Kanda didn't reply, just kept his eyes set ahead as he began to climb the small hill that his house rested on.

"He must be a descendant of yours. Your lives seem so parallel. He'll probably be worried…"

"Sounds charming," he finally said after a while.

"Anything but. He's a jerk and always eats the last pop-tart. The last one is always the best because you know it's the last."

"What's a pop-tart?"

"A type of pastry that you pop into the toaster. Or you can eat it right out of the package."

Kanda nodded, pretending to know what he was saying, not wanting to seem ignorant. But what the hell was a toaster?

"He also had a tattoo. On his chest and shoulder. I think it was Sanskrit. When I asked him about it, he said it was because he rebelled, that it was a mark of his defiance."

He said nothing, the skin over his left breast itching at the words. He kept his face carefully blank, his eyes guarded. Even if Allen wasn't a threat now, it didn't mean he couldn't be later, that he didn't have ulterior motives. Kanda should have considered that before. What if he was with _them_, what if he wanted what he was after?

He would have to keep his guard up and keep both eyes on him. The moment he was back to full health, he was going right back into the snow where Kanda had found him.

"I mean, who would you rebel against? A cat? He really was an idiot."

"Yeah, I'm sure he was."

Maybe even before he was at full health. That would be best.

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**So, what did you think? Like? Didn't like? I didn't get much feedback for the first chapter, despite how many of you favorited and followed the story. I won't force you to review, but knowing it's worth that extra time makes me want to put in the effort, especially seeing as I'm only working on the fourth chapter as you're reading this.**

**So please let me know what you think.  
**

**Until next time. Ciao.  
**

**-Jellybean Fish (Auttie the Majestic Unicorn)  
**


	3. Puzzle Pieces

**Well, as the title suggests, you'll have more pieces to fit into this puzzle now. I'll start doing time jumps with the next chapter. Not big ones though. And it'll say how much time had passed.**

**Thanks for everyone who reviewed on the last chapter. They all made me really happy.  
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**Here's the next chapter. Enjoy.  
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**Beta'd by: The Baka (Starisia the Shadow Demon)  
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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 3: Puzzle Pieces

Theme: Messenger

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Allen's eyelids were heavy and seemed to crack like stone when he opened them. They burned, like they were being held to an open fire, aching and dry. He groaned, his head pounding with the beats of his heart. He groaned again, rolling over to his side and into the warm body next to him.

"You're awake." Kanda said.

Allen grumbled unintelligently, wrapping his arm around the man, wondering vaguely why he stiffened at the action, and pressing his face into his side. "I think this flu is screwing with my head. I had the weirdest dream about going back in time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm…" Allen murmured, his eyes too heavy to keep open. "You were there… Only it wasn't you… It was some kind of ancestor or something…"

He fell silent for a while, and was beginning to fall asleep once more when his partner shifted. Rolling onto his back, Allen watched his lover get off the bed and stand before reaching for the cough medicine.

"Not doing it again." He growled, his throat tight.

"Do I need to do what I did last time?" Kanda asked. Allen shook his head, pouting. "Good, now drink."

After taking the terrible tasting liquid, Allen made a face at him. "You're going to overdose me."

"You realize you were asleep all day, right?"

He blinked, a bit surprised. A whole day? He looked toward the blinds. Sure enough, it was nice and dark out – as dark as New York City could get, at least. He sighed, shrugging and laying back down. He thought back to the dream.

It had been so real. He had felt the cold, had felt the burn as his skin froze and the eventual numbness after he lost feeling in his body. The pain and the panic had been real. He had been lost with no idea where he was or what was going on, or even how he had gotten there. He had felt the shock and confusion right down to the marrow of his bones. He had felt the fear as well as something else – something like attraction – when he had laid eyes on the Kanda in the dream. And it had taken a moment for him to recognize the man, as if he had never laid eyes on him before. But then all the knowledge rushed into his mind like a lightning strike and he started saying all those facts as if it was second nature.

And then Kanda hadn't recognized him, and he had felt hurt, confused, scared, even betrayed. And as irrational as it had all been, it had felt real, because he was scared and had no clue _where_ he had been. And then he started talking with dream-Kanda and then he found out the date. And it was all just… _all so real._

He shook his head before settling against Kanda's – his Kanda, solid and real – side as sleep came for him once more.

Moments later, he was jolted awake at the sound of something shattering on the ground, followed by curses.

Blinking open his eyes, Allen pushed up on his arms and looked around. His surrounding puzzled him. Dark, aged wood, paper doors, paintings with elaborate displays of cranes, tigers, and koi ponds, all blending together to set a soft, relaxing ambience. The bed was hard, which was odd because they had picked it out exactly for the reason that it was firm, but soft as well. Looking down at it, he found it to be a futon. The padding was a creamy color, filled with what felt like down. The dark blue blankets were the same. The room itself was lit by soft, muted moonlight that filtered in through paper panels, making everything silver where it was able to light.

Sitting up, Allen listened to any sounds in the house, but finding none. Stumbling his way to his feet, he made his way over to the delicate paper door of the foreign room, listening again. Sliding the door open, he peeked into the dark hall beyond, searching for anything that was familiar, which was ridiculous, he decided.

This wasn't his apartment in New York that was for sure. But _where_ it was, was an excellent question. A quiet voice in the back of his head began listing off the clues. He brushed them off, not wanting to admit the similarities despite the chill that slithered like water drops down his spine. Stepping out of the slightly warmer room, Allen wandered down the hall, searching for anything that might give him the answers he was searching for. The darkness held onto its secrets, not whispering a word.

The halls seemed endless, though it was probably because the silence seemed to stretch. Trickles of fear crawled along his nerve ends, making him nervous and fidgety. He took his time, not knowing what was before him.

He could have been wandering for hours, or days, or years – it seemed to take forever to find another door. Looking back, he found the room he left out of sight, telling him he had at the very least gone some distance. Peeking into the room, he found it bare, empty. The air seemed heavy, but didn't have a dusty smell that made it thick and hard to breathe.

After closing the door, Allen made his way further down the hall, sliding a hand along the walls to keep track of where he was and checking all the rooms he came across until there were no more to check. Frowning, he felt around in the darkness, looking for another hall. But that was it. Turning it circles, he stretched his arm out, looking for the opposite wall but finding nothing. Swallowing, he took a leap of faith and let the tips of his nails leave the wall as he walked forward, blindly feeling for the next solid surface.

He stumbled, tripping over his own feet – which still ached – and falling to his hands. His knees hit the end of something, while his hands seemed to slip through the air. Allen's shout of surprise was cut off as his hands finally landed painfully on a hard surface. He slid forward, moving down as his body began to straighten itself out without his permission. He felt something warm and wet against his palms as he fought to catch himself on the stairs, trying to fight against the darkness that seemed hell bent on swallowing him whole.

Finally coming to an awkward and painful stop, Allen gasped for breath, fear and shock gushing though his veins, infecting every cell in his body. Swallowing, he did his best to feel around without shifting his weight, not wanting to continue the descent.

He paused after a moment, hearing the quick patting of bare feet against the floor. He knew who it was before he rounded the corner, the truth inevitable at this point.

Kanda – not his Kanda – stepped into view holding a melted down candle that dripped wax onto the earthy ground, the flame bending and swaying like a dancer dipped low in a bow. After seemingly so long in the dark, the brightness, as soft as it was, stung his eyes and he looked away, raising a hand to shield his eyes. Without the support of both limbs, Allen quickly found himself in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, groaning at the pretzel he'd just made himself into.

Kanda stared at him, amused and more than a bit surprised to find him – whether there in general or simply in that state. "What on earth are you doing, bean sprout?"

It seemed he'd never escape that nickname.

"Dancing," Allen snapped, rolling to the side so he could sit up, propped against the cold wall while the ground below stole the warmth from his body. "Damn, that hurt."

"You useless excuse for a human being," Kanda muttered, raising the candle to inspect the stairs. He turned it back to Allen a moment later, staring at him cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking flowers." Allen said in English, letting his faded British accent return for a short moment. He didn't know why he was there. It was supposed to be a very vivid dream, that's it. Looking down at his bleeding hands, Allen thought that you weren't supposed to get hurt in dreams. "I heard a noise and came to investigate. Did something break?"

"Just some glass. It's not important." Kanda said, his voice still guarded. Allen nodded and clenched his hands into his pajama shirt, staining the material and dying it red. The older man looked at his hands, frowning before sighing heavily. "Get up."

Allen stared at him curiously, holding back the smartass comment that bit at his tongue, demanding release. After a moment, he shrugged, placing a hand on the wall to help him stand, leaving behind a sticky smudge when he lifted away from it. He straightened his back, hearing his spine pop multiple times along the length of it. He groaned, doing the same with his shoulders, neck, arms and legs, all with the same result. When he was done, Allen sighed, body sagging at the relief-like feeling that washed through him. It still ached, more than he liked, but it was more bearable now.

Kanda led him up the stairs, holding the candle to the side of him so that way Allen could see the space in front of his feet. He led him back passed the room he'd been staying in, the door still open and the futon still where he had left it. They went left, then right, then back, then hit up the local theme park, taking a ride on enough rides that they should have gotten a day pass instead of buying tickets.

Well, maybe not, but it sure felt that way to Allen. How one man could live in a house this big, alone… It was enough to drive anyone insane.

Finally, after what seemed like miles of walking, they finally turned on last corner before coming to a stop in front of another sliding door. Opening it, Kanda stepped through, revealing a small kitchen, lit up by the filtered moonlight on three sides.

It was like stepping into a different world, as cheesy as it sounded. The kitchen didn't seem apart of the rest of the house at all, with how much it was lit up compared to the halls they have just walked. It had a quiet, sereneness almost.

One broken a moment later by the sudden, and very sharp, barking of an over excited dog. Chills ran down Allen's body as he looked to his left, just in time to bear witness to the flying dog moments before she collided with him, knocking him to the floor.

Allen landed with a huff as the breath rushed from his lungs, leaving him gasping with the weight of the dog on him. She licked his face, dropping her full weight on him, planting him in that spot. It wasn't until a soft whistle cut the air that she moved off him, leaving him sopping wet and smelling of dog. He sat up, making a face as he looked down at his rumbled and slobbered clothes.

"Every single time," Allen muttered, scrunching his face up in disdain.

"What are you talking about this time?" Kanda asked, annoyance lacing his voice. Allen would have to remember that the dream version of Kanda had no idea that they had known each other for years.

"Nothing," Allen said, smiling lightly at him. He stood, once more leaving bloody smudges where he placed his hands. He would need to clean it up later. Hopefully he could find a way to clean the stains out of the wood before it became permanent.

Kanda gestured him over and he limped to him, his leg feeling sore, probably from that tackle he'd just received. Sitting down at the low table, Allen waited as the older man walked to one of the cupboards before returning with a jar of salve and a roll of fabric bandages.

Sitting to the side of him, Kanda took Allen's hands and laid them before him. He opened the jar and scooped up the pale green ointment, rubbing it into the cuts on Allen's palms.

Allen was surprised – not because Kanda knew this, as his Kanda was a doctor anyway. But his hands were warm, so different from his Kanda, whose hands were cold and rarely showed any heat at all.

He kind of liked it.

After the ointment was applied, Kanda began to wrap his palms in the soft strips of cloth, tying a tight knot over the back of his hands. He held them for a moment, pressing lightly, though not enough for it to hurt, before releasing. The bandage stayed clean, no splotches of red beginning to show through.

Allen took his hands back, a bit sad that the warmth faded almost instantly, the residue nothing in comparison. Sighing, he thanked Kanda, rubbing the cloths lightly in turn. So now he knew for sure that this wasn't the man he knew. Because for as long as he had known him, Kanda's hands had always been cold. He wasn't like ice, or a corpse or anything, there was enough feeling that it was easy to see there was blood running through his veins. But it was always as if he had left his hands under the tap with the cold water running.

They sat in silence for a while, both staring at the table while the dog panted, lying next to Kanda with her head in his lap. The older man was the first to break the silence, his question something that Allen knew was coming.

"Why are you here, Allen?"

"I'm surprised you're so good at saying my name already. I would have expected you to roll the L's more." Allen replied, carefully avoiding the question by mocking him. Kanda's gaze turned on him, sharp and cold. Sighing, he looked him directly in the eyes, not backing down or shifting his gaze, all too used to the glare. "I don't know. I don't know how I got here, or how I came back."

Kanda frowned. "'Came back'?"

He nodded. "When I was asleep here, I woke up in reality." He paused. "This has to be the strangest conversation I've ever had."

"Went to sleep and woke… You think this is a dream? There's more wrong with you than I thought."

"I could say the same to you, but dreams are supposed to be that way, right?"

Kanda scowled. "I'm no dream, stupid. This is reality." Allen gave him a sceptical look. "You think it isn't?"

"At this point, I can't imagine it being anything else."

Kanda was silent for a while, watching him. After a few minutes had passed, he smirked. "Come with me. I'll show you all my secrets. Then you'll see that this isn't a dream."

"I-"

"Yuu Kanda!"

They both jumped to their feet, the dog doing so as well, a snarl filling the air after the shout. Moving over to the window, they peeked through the boards after opening it just a crack. Three men stood on the stone trail leading through the front garden, their faces hidden in the shadows. Allen couldn't see very clearly from the point he stood at, but they seemed to be wearing Imperial uniforms, or some other kind of military clothing.

"We know you're here! Come out!" One of them shouted, the voice the same as before.

Both Allen and Kanda stayed where they were, just watching the men. None of them did anything, the only sound being the low growling from the dog, whom seemed to be waiting for Kanda's order to attack.

Allen looked up at Kanda. He blinked as he took in his expression. The man seemed to derive an almost sheer delight from this visit, his face split in two by the grin that showed of his straight, white teeth. He had only seen it on a few occasions, each time when he had been challenged, a challenge he knew he was either winning, or beginning to.

The more he stared at him, the more he wondered the hell was going on. He had obviously stumbled into the middle of something – something he would rather get out of than further into, especially seeing as it wasn't his business.

The men turned, their voices indiscernible as they talked amongst themselves. After a long while of debate, they turned back to the house.

"Stop your research and burn your notes, otherwise we'll be back!" There was a pause, then, "Stop the experiments or our boss will pay you a visit!" With that threat/warning given, all three men turned and walked into the dark winter night.

"What-"

"I guess this means I'm getting close," Kanda said, cutting Allen off.

Allen stared up at him, a dip growing between his eyebrows the longer he did. There was a maniacal look in his dark eyes that put him on guard. He was almost fearful of what Kanda was doing.

"_Come with me. I'll show you all my secrets."_

Allen had a very, very bad feeling about this.

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***Is watching Togainu no Chi* You know, before this, I was watching a drama series. So now I can't tell if the Japanese drama's are like anime, or if anime are like the drama's.**

**Anyway, I hoped you liked that chapter. The next one won't be very long. But towards the end, the chapters will probably double in length because I can't cut them like I normally would.**

**What did you think of it? You should tell me by pressing this button right below. (this one down there v)**

**Ciao until tomorrow (maybe).**

**-Jellybean Fish (Auttie the Flightless Penguin)**


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